NOT YOUR TYPICAL DAY

EEEEKK-EEEEKK goes the alarm...Ann stirs and gets up to hit snooze.This is the third time for this, I'm not sure if it's Ann or the dogs rushing off the bed trying to break my ankle but it hurts,three times it hurts,eliciting a string of profanities in no certain order from my still sleepy mouth.
Ann is up, shuffling around our shell of a house reduced to chaos singing her now routine morning ditty that consists of the words shit, god damn and fuck in a vain attempt to find ANYTHING. Whatever it is, I assure you it's here, but it's hiding from her. She is not amused.
I drag myself out of bed with dogs attached to me (they are very freaked by this renovation) underfoot as I get dressed. I ask Ann what the fuck is she looking for and she responds a fucking towel, the one we were using is in the middle of the floor soaking wet (thanks shawn).Yesterday we were a 2 towel family, I look for the other towel all the while being regaled by Ann's morning recital.Today,apparently, we are a 1 towel family whose 1 towel was placed in a bucket of 2" of cigarette butt laden water that started life as a catch pan and ended up an ashtray in what was once our bathroom, now reduced to a commode and some pipes sticking up out of the slab.
I grab a soft pair of hospital jammy bottoms and grunt "here use this" as I unceremoniously shove them vaguely in the direction of her hands and stumble out the front door, toothbrush in hand and perform the morning essentials via the hose in our front yard.
Fortified by this luxury, I say goodbye and drive to work, leaving Ann alone to scream out like a banshee if she wants to.
She has clearly lost her mind. I am surprised at her reaction to this madness, Ann is usually unshakeable, but, today at least, she is shaken AND stirred.
So I get to work...I spent 9 hours there...it was not entirely pleasant.
On a positive note, our "three sided ventless gas fireplace" arrived today and I was able to slip away to go pick it up...in Georgetown.
Driving on the interstate to georgetown is the equivalent to being shown nude pictures of (insert favorite celebrity here) and, every time you get aroused some guy that looks like GG allin hits you with a sock full of woodscrews, and he's naked, wearing a ballgag with your name embossed on it in chiller font.
Have I mentioned there's a traffic problem here?
I make it back to the shop unscathed, and the afternoon goes by without incident (Thanks to Joel for making Friday "GOOD" from the get go). My coworkers let me go early (4:00) to deal with the reno.
Thanks guys.
Ann and I arrive home at the same time, we enter the hellhouse fully expecting to see a functional bathroom, or at least the new tub installed and ready to service us with long dreamed of hot showers.
Did not happen.
However, our washing machine box is installed and ready to go.
Our washing machine died last week.
It's out front in the roll off dumpster,never to wash again.We on the other hand NEED to wash.
We opt for beer and mindless entertainment, Ann plays the SIMS on the laptop, I stare at Deadwood and can suddenly relate with the scenery in a way I haven't been able to before.
I keep telling us, it'll be over soon and it will be worth it.
I'm trying to believe, really.